Diversion 1 - Diversion (13 page)

Lucky envied Bo the ability to casually speak the mans name, and how the topic hadnt stolen his appetite. Only a few forkfuls of glazed carrots remained on Bos plate.

“Were murder charges brought against you, too? No, wait, youre here, so obviously not.”
Of course not, I paid with my soul to dodge that bullet, giving them the evidence they needed to lay the dirt firmly on Victors doorstep.
“No.” Lucky took a bite of steak, allowing himself time to regroup. He chewed methodically, buying every precious second to assemble his scattered thoughts. “The biggest thing they proved on me was conspiracy to distribute narcotics. I cooperated with the DA, reducing my sentence from twenty years to ten.”
Two years into his sentence, Walter Smith came a-calling, offering Lucky a choice: rot in jail for another eight years, or spill the secrets of his former trade to the people whod put him in prison to begin with.
Sadly, the deal didnt include a get out of jail free card. No, Walter held tightly to the choke chain around Luckys neck. One single misstep and hed be back in North Carolina for an all- expense paid extended vacation, courtesy of the Durham Correctional Center. Sometimes he wondered if Victors solution hadnt been the better idea. After a while the collar chafed, and Lucky began to think it better for his sanity to give up and go back voluntarily, rather than walk on eggshells, knowing one toe out of line and Walter had the authority to jerk the rug out from under his feet. Not to mention all of Victors former connections that Luckyd helped track down and put behind bars. No damned wonder he didnt sleep at night.
What a fucked up half-life he had. Now, instead of stealing trucks and living for the next big adventure, he drank the hell out of some Starbucks, pushed the limits as far as he dared, pretending he controlled his life, and submitted to drug testing every month. His apartment, car, and bank account were overseen by Walter, and nothing was in Luckys name. Better to keep the departments pet criminal in line—and hidden. While Victor hadnt retaliated, the former business associates that hadnt yet been rounded up might like a few minutes alone with the man whod sold Mangiardi Enterprises and others down the river, and somewhere out there Stephan Mangiardi prowled, deprived of a hefty inheritance.
Lucky hated his current jailer and respected him at the same time. Walter never exploited the situation or lied to him, and even stood in his corner when other members of the “team” let their ignorance and prejudice out to play, with Luckys self-respect serving as the target for their verbal darts. Walter also turned a blind eye occasionally when the pressure got too much and Lucky felt the need to cruise forbidden bars and get laid.
And there were those concerned brown eyes staring at him now, making him wish he had a life to consider sharing. What the hell? Where had that ridiculous thought come from? Never mind, though, because he didnt have a life to share, and itd be a damned fool thing to do even if he did. In a matter of weeks hed be dropped back into the real world to fumble around on his own, hoping like hell to keep his head down and stay out of trouble.
“Hey, man, whered you go?” Bo dropped his fork onto his nowempty plate with a clatter. “Are you okay? Youre not looking too good.”
Forcing a smile, Lucky replied, a little too harshly, “What difference does it make what I look like? The bedroom light has an off switch, doesnt it?”
The concern turned to hurt. “All Im saying is if you need to talk or anything, Ive been told Im a good listener.”
Luckys self-control snapped. “Are you pitying me? Cause let me tell you, save your pity for some godforsaken soul who deserves it, okay? Im where I am because I made stupid-assed choices. I cant blame nobody but me if my life sucks canal water.”
Bo lowered his voice and his eyes. “I dont care where youve been or what youve done or whose fault it is. Under the asshole costume you wear is a decent human being whos gone out of his way to be patient with me and teach me the tools of the trade, even if you do bluster and insult my intelligence on occasion. Ive learned to live with snarky remarks. And regardless of what you might believe, I wasnt born with a silver spoon in my mouth. What little I have I earned.”
In the short time theyd worked together Lucky had never seen Bo completely lose his temper. In fact, hed taken it as a given that the man never truly got angry, despite Luckys goading. At least not angry enough to visibly shake. Bo disproved the theory in spectacular fashion, without yelling or even raising his voice. Heat simmered beneath a faux calm exterior. “You think you got it bad? No one understands poor little you? Well, let me tell you, try being a gay soldier in Afghanistan, living under Dont Ask, Dont Tell. Worried youll say something, do something, and someone will destroy everything youve worked for.
“Try sitting around with your friends, knowing youre lying about a big part of yourself. Try getting letters from home, pretending your best friend is your girlfriend to keep the guys from harassing you about finding watching as the other guys girlfriends goodnight, and lay their heads down, knowing a woman and getting laid. Try kiss pictures of their wives and somewhere in this world someone loves and misses them. Try it, go on! Come back afterward and give me your „poor little Lucky song and dance. Yeah, what happened to you sucked, but as you said, you deserved it. Youve been paying your dues and will continue to for the rest of your life. Cause somewhere along the line you fucked up and grew a conscience and a sense of right and wrong. Get the fuck over it!”
For a moment Lucky thought he saw smoke pouring off Bo, before realizing it was only a steam table in the background. He tried to form words, but none came out. Actually, what the hell could he say?
Spinning a complete three-sixty, Bo reached over to grasp Luckys hand where it rested on the table, his tone now kind and caring. “The way I see it, were in this together. Youre my partner. If youve got a problem, Im here for you.”
“Mr. Larsen?”
Larsen? Oh, yeah, Bos cover.
The woman approaching their table, smartly dressed in a lavender business suit, tickled a memory, and it took Lucky a minute to realize where hed seen her before. In pictures. Hed seen her face, knew she drove a Mercedes, had her home address, and a compiled list of who visited her clinic. Shed hidden her horns well beneath meticulously styled platinum curls, and an expert makeup job hid the shiny red skin, but Lucky recognized a she-devil, disguised as a harmless aging beauty queen. A former Miss Georgia Peach, if he wasnt mistaken.
Beverly Ryerson smiled sweetly at the hostess waiting with menus clasped to her chest. “Ill only be a minute, dear,” Dr. Ryerson said, clutching a tiny purse in both hands.
Bo snapped out of the trance hed been under, yanking his hand back from Luckys. The lady smiled, red lips pulling back from overly bright teeth. “Oh, dont mind me. Although raised in the south, I dont share certain bigoted, narrow-minded ideas. My late husband did hail from New York, Godrest his soul.” Her melodic tones dripped the honey of a true southern belle.
Ignoring Bos wide-eyed horror, she introduced herself to Lucky. “Hi, Im Dr. Beverly Ryerson, your partners new employer. He didnt tell me he was…involved.” Her smile, which less suspicious individuals might mistake for charming, turned apologetic. “With all the labor laws, were not allowed to ask, and our applicants arent encouraged to tell.”
Lucky winced, worried what impact her inadvertent reference to DADT might have on Bo, wondering a half second later why he cared. The stricken ashiness of Bos face brought home to Lucky that he did care. Hed ponder the why later. He formed an instant dislike for Ryerson based less on her underhanded business ventures and more on her sticky sweet façade. No sleep would be lost over taking her down and helping Lady Justice shed the blindfold long enough to get a gander at the woman currently beaming expectantly at him. He discreetly rubbed his ankle against Bos leg in a silent show of support.
Bo captured the ankle between his calves and gently squeezed before letting go and recovering enough to join the conversation. “Doctor, Id like you to meet L…” He shot a panicked “help me!” glance at Lucky, managing a quick save. “Larry, my…”
“Oh, dont be shy,” Ryerson scolded Bo, in tones Lucky normally heard addressing small children. “Im a big girl, sir, and never cottoned to the notion of „it should be Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve.” To Lucky she said, “Im happy to meet you. Larry, is it?”
Lucky tried to hide a wince.
Larry?
“Ill have to keep an eye on Will.”
Will?
“With someone as handsome as you waiting back home, Im sure hell be tempted to sneak out early.”
Lucky bit down on his tongue before, “Youre so full of shit Im surprised your eyes arent brown,” clawed its way out of his mouth. “Awww, shucks, maam,” he said, laying his accent on thick. “Youre too kind.”
“Oh! And a southern boy, too! Tell me, young man, where are you from?” Could she possibly be any more phony? Lucky hated phony. “Carolinas, maybe?”
If she asks “Hows yo mama and dem?” Im gonna scream.
At thirty-five Lucky hardly considered himself young. Hell, this woman wasnt much older. But Lucky didnt correct her, especially in light of his current problem of picking a city, any city, providing it existed in North Carolina, his home state. Preferably nowhere near Durham. Damn but he hated Durham, where hed shared Victors mansion and had later been jailed. Hed also better come up with a plausible last name, too. One Walter could produce documents for.
“High Point,” he said, hoping she didnt respond with, “Oh, I have family there! Tell me, is such and such still located such and such?”
Thank heavens she didnt go there. “How wonderful. Tell me, how long have you twobeen together?”
Lucky searched his brain for a reasonable answer. Bo beat him to the punch. “Weve been
together
for years, but only recently did I convince him to move in with me.” His saccharin smile almost matched his bosss.
She cant tell hes lying through his teeth.
Bos ability to ad-lib with a straight face impressed Lucky no end. Turned him on a bit, too.
“Larry, Dr. Ryerson is from Georgia, from down around Valdosta.” As pretty as you please, he dropped vital information right in front of her.
Well, aint you a little dickens?
The lady splayed her hand on her chest. “Oh now, Will. I told you to call me Beverly unless there are patients around.”
“Okay, Beverly.” Bo smiled, but Lucky noticed The Dimple stayed hidden. Fascinating.
If those two didnt stop it with the pasted on smiles and fawning, Lucky felt he might lose what little lunch hed managed to eat. While he admired his partners conniving streak, he nearly choked when Bo said, “Doctor…I mean, Beverly. Larry here has an old soccer injury that gives him trouble from time to time. Keeps him up at night.” He grabbed Luckys hand again, adding innuendo to his troubled frown. “Any good sports doctors in the area?”
The exaggeration of a genteel southern lady disappeared, a trained doctor filling her pointy toe pumps. “How exactly did you injure yourself, Larry?”
Lucky kicked Bo under the table, pissed to have gotten pulled into the mess, and even more pissed by being hung with a moniker like “Larry.” He didnt have a dog in this fight, and didnt care to.
Two months and counting
. He fumbled through a mental laundry list of hurts gone by, grasping a useable possibility.
“I tore the cartilage in my knee back in my teens.” He left out the part where hed fallen out of a barn trying to get away before his dad caught him in the hayloft with a field hand when they should have been out planting tobacco. Let her fill in the blanks however she wanted.
“Ill tell you what,” she said, eyes twinkling. “I normally require referrals to take on new patients, but since youre the partner of my newest employee, Ill make an exception.” Her teeth flashed and for a moment Lucky worried about imminent blindness.
She dipped her fingers into her tiny purse and extended a business card. “Call the office, set up an appointment. Oh, do you have insurance?”
Regardless of what shed said earlier, Lucky suspected a “no” would earn him a retraction of her kind offer. But then again, maybe not. Cash hid more easily than insurance payments.
“Yes, maam,” he responded, although hed have to get Walter to cook something up, providing him with a fictitious employer.
“Well, Larry, I look forward to seeing you in the office. Im sure well be able to take care of your pain. Bring your insurance card with you. Now, if youll excuse me, Im meeting an old friend for lunch.”
She strolled away on a cloud of floral perfume, leaving an icy chill in her wake. Lucky waited until the lavender beacon lighted on a chair on the far side of the room to hiss, “Now why the hell did you have to go drag me into this? Introduced me and everything!”
“What was I supposed to say? „Hi, Doc, Id like you to meet the anonymous fuck I picked up in a bar last night?” The malice in Bos eyes said hed have done it, too.
Excellent point,
Lucky reluctantly agreed.
Bo wasnt finished yet. “And dont you dare lie and tell me youre not jealous as hell that Im on the inside and youre sitting in some parking garage playing connect the dots with the pigeon shit that lands on the hood.”

He knows I do that?
Motioning the waitress over, Bo handed her thirty bucks. “Keep the change.” She displayed a gap-tooth smile and wandered away. “Cmon. Its been a long day. Lets go home. We need to fill Walter in on our progress.”
Bo, the traitor, passed out on the couch directly after their evening workout, leaving Lucky to type up reports and inform Walter both of Bos successful invitation to the inside, and his own opportunity to tag along. Why the hell didnt Bo sleep in a bed like everybody else? Lucky made as much noise as possible, but Bo slept like a log. He waited until ten to call Walter, hoping he woke his boss up from a sound sleep. Little guys had to score one for the home team every chance they got.
A television blared in the background when Walter answered. No, not asleep. “Hello, Lucky. How are you and Bo getting along?”
An image came to mind of Bo stretched out on the bed, naked and waiting. Lucky swallowed a mouthful of drool. “Umm…hes fine. I mean, were fine. He got hired on at the Ryerson Clinic.”
Either not hearing or not caring about Luckys unfortunate choice of words, Walter exclaimed, “How wonderful!”
“Theres something else you gotta know.” Lucky paused for effect
. See? Two can play your stupid games, asshole!
“I met Ryerson.” He parked his butt on the arm of the couch, inches away from Bos sleep-slackened face.
Hes downright adorable when hes asleep, aint he?
Lucky deliberately forced his eyes away, staring instead at an ugly as hell picture of a bowl of fruit.
Who the fuck decorated this place? And what were they on?
“You did? When? Where? Please tell me you didnt let yourself be discovered.”
“No, she happened to have a meeting at the same restaurant where we ate lunch. Serves Newbie right for listening to her suggestion. Unfortunately, she kinda misunderstood something Bo said, and believes were partners, of the „we pick out china patterns together variety.”
Silence. Lucky pictured a hamster double-timing on a wheel in Walters brain. After the hamster fell off, Walter ventured, “Does this jeopardize Bos assignment?” Not,
“Do either of you have a problem pretending to be lovers?”
but
“Does it hurt the team?”
“No. She made it a little too clear that shes not a homophobe, though the lady may protest too much.” Torn between pride and suspicion, Lucky sharedhis next bit of news. “Seems hes gotten me in, too. Spilled the beans to his new boss about some old sports injury giving me trouble, and she told me to stop by the clinic.”
“She what? Oh my, Lucky.” Any weariness fled Walters voice, replaced by kid-at-Christmas excitement. Lucky pictured him rubbing his hands gleefully together. “Weve been trying for weeks to get someone in there as a patient, but shes extremely careful of whom she lets in. When are you scheduled to go?”
“I have to make an appointment. Ill need an insurance card and a background for somebody by the name of”—he hated having to say—“Larry. I didnt tell her where I work, or am insured, but if she thinks Im Bos partner, she may ask questions. We need to have our stories straight.”
“Well done, Lucky!” Lucky imagined all three hundred twenty pounds of the man bouncing up and down in some bizarre happy dance. It wasnt an appealing image. “I figured that if anyone could, youd find a way in. That was part of the reason I assigned you.”
“Yep. I never give up.” Taking credit for Bos idea served the man right for toddling off to sleep instead of staying up to share Luckys pain. He absolutely hated giving reports. How he wished Bo were his administrative assistant in truth.
“Theres a bet going around the office that youll coast on through December. How happy Ill be to prove a few people wrong.”
“What were the odds?”
“Seven for, one against.”
“Who voted against?”
“Why me, off course.” Walter snorted through the phone line. “You may not have arrived on my team the same way the others did, but youre every bit as valuable to me…” He stopped, mid- sentence. “Okay, truth. Id rather have you at my back than any of the others. Youd stay and fight if for no other reason than youre too damned stubborn to run.”
Lucky didnt handle compliments well, never liking the uncertainty mushy sentiment brought with it. More and more lately Walter had been acting like he didnt truly want Lucky to leave. “Gee, Walter, I dont know what to say.”
“No words needed. The Andrew Jacksons I plan to win off your gullible co-workers speak loudly enough. Do me proud, boy, do me proud.”